


Love Not for Royals

by Icy_Hot_Soba



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 17:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15977387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icy_Hot_Soba/pseuds/Icy_Hot_Soba
Summary: This is the tale of two royals, destined to rule against their hearts content, but every tragedy has a warm beginning. As Ryouma and Xander discover their heart's true desires, outside forces will force the two to part with the oncoming war. Though, that is only the beginning of their heart filled tale.





	Love Not for Royals

This night of the full moon brought upon the Mid-Autumn Festival in Izumo. Figures from every nation attended the event in this neutral capital to enjoy the lavishing accommodations it had to offer. Like every other year, those attending the festivities included the royal family from Hoshido as well as their closest allies from Nohr. Though tonight, it seemed the Hoshidan royals would make a fashionably late entrance.

“Takumi, this is all your fault,” Hinoka spat while walking in front of her brothers. As she places her free hand against her hip that is rocking with each valiant stride, Hinoka lets out an exasperated sigh. This was her year to find a suitable groom, and the competition was stacked. It did not help that ever since youth Hinoka had been seen as more of a tomboy than a proper princess: short hair reaching just a few inches below her ears, a fibrous slender body, and an untamable personality.

Accompanying close beside her was the youngest royal in the Hoshidan line, Sakura, who held onto her sister's hand tightly. She had never taken a liking to social gatherings. While it was nice to see friends from various nations, Sakura preferred to meet them in a more private setting. Sakura planned on sticking close to her elder sister for the rest of the night, even if it meant helping her find someone special.

“I didn’t think it would take so long!” Takumi expresses with honest regret. His inability to accurately judge how long his training session would take cost the entire family to begin their trek an hour later than scheduled. As Takumi lets out a disappointing sigh, he scratches his right temple. Though, his attention quickly turns to his brother.

With a reassuring grin, Ryouma pats his sibling’s shoulder before dropping his hand back to his side. Tonight was the first night in months the royals could have a night to themselves, free of any worry about how their choices would impact their faithful country. Thankfully, Ryouma did not have to worry about wedding anyone just yet. Unlike Hinoka, Ryouma had woman lined up to marry him, yet the choice would fall solely on his father to choose which partner would strengthen their nation through an alliance when the time was right. Of course, that time was not now as Hoshido stood tall amongst many nations. Even so, the eldest prince had plans of his own accord to attend to.

As the royal family reached the grand shrine where festivities had begun, Sumeragi turns to his children and motions them to head into the establishment. The four do as their father commands, heading through the double doors of the shrine without question. Mikoto watches her children with a warm smile as she hugs her husband’s arm. Leaning her head on his broad shoulder, Mikoto says,”They finally get a break tonight.”

“They should enjoy it while it lasts,” Sumeragi simply states with an undertone of worry.

Of course, this sentence warrants concern from his wife who tilts her head back to an upright position immediately. As she concerningly stares up at her husband, Mikoto questions him,”What do you mean, dear?”

Before speaking, Sumeragi takes a second to construct a valid view of this pressing situation. As of late, his concerns with politics had grown with every passing day as nations have been establishing their alliances at an alarming rate. As it was, his main concern fell upon a rather close-to-heart nation that had been breaking various ties with countries for no obvious reason in sight. In the end, Sumeragi decides to keep things simplistic, as he usually does with undecided matters, conveying,”I just have a bad feeling about tonight.”

With a helpless sigh, Mikoto drops her hand to her husband’s, intertwining their fingers. She waits for Sumeragi to look her way before reassuring him,”I am quite sure nothing will happen tonight. It’s a festival! Everyone just needs a night to escape from the pressing matters in this world.”

As always, Mikoto saw the lighter side in every situation. Her kind spirit was good for many things, but dealing with political trends was not one of them. With how events had been unfolding as of late, Sumeragi could practically smell the oncoming of a war, but to appease his wife, Sumeragi merely sports a half hearted smile as the couple move toward the temple.

*************************************************************************

As the four royal children travel through the decorated halls, they refrained from conversation. Sakura admires how every section of the castle is cleanly decorated for the occasion, as it was every single year they had attended. The path to the ballroom was outlined by crescent shaped moon lanterns, each a vibrant yellow color; they were utilized as a guide to the main ballroom where the majority of the festivities were held. Though, these lanterns arose a question that Takumi simply needed to address,”Why are the lanterns shaped like crescent moons when the festival is about a full moon?”

Instead of answering, Hinoka sighs. Her brother had plenty of reason to question this, she did not detest that notion, but it was something highly irrelevant at the moment. As for Sakura, the controversial question made her softly chuckle. It was Ryouma who attempted to answer his brother’s question as best he could,”Think of it more as a representation of the moon. If they mimicked the lanterns after a full moon-“

“They would just be normal lanterns...I get it now,” Takumi interrupted his brother as the sudden realization took place. The matter lost all acknowledgement as the four royals step into the giant ballroom. Takumi peirs around the horde of people flooding the ballroom, eyeing easily a hundred at first glance. As the young man’s eyes catch sight of a long table littered with food, so does his stomach. Takumi speaks while waltzing toward the table,”Well, I’ll see you guys later.”

“Sure, stay out of trouble,” Ryouma jokingly warns as his brother trails off into the crowd. As Ryouma turns to direct his attention to his sisters, the late fellow misses their exit, leaving him isolated at the entrance to the ballroom. Before walking down the center of the room, Ryouma scans his surroundings in search of his dear friend, currently nowhere in sight.

So, the crown prince makes his way through various foreign figures, keeping to himself as much as possible, but this feat becomes rather impractical as the space between people is limited. The crowd is grouped into bunches much like a bee comb; each squadron of people layered with a very thin lining that nearly stuck to its neighboring comb. Lucky for Ryouma, those he passed were much older than him, consisting of kings and queens from far away nations already intoxicated to their heart’s content. It made passing by without interruption much easier, yet his friend was still not in sight as he entered the center of the ballroom.

Tall, blonde, and fair skin: how hard could he really be to find in a crowd of foreigners? One would consider the task fairly simple as those characteristics were met with only a select few nations from the northernmost regions attending tonight’s festivities. Though, Ryouma caught sight of countless blonde haired gentleman and fair skinned women alike, yet not one with both features combined. As his frustration built, nearing the end of the ballroom, Ryouma’s ally finally came into view.

Before confronting the fellow, Ryouma examined him to concoct a harmless insult to greet him with. Glancing up and down the man’s slender figure, Xander of Nohr wore a white shirt with a flared collar, a purple vest highlighted with golden laces, and slick, black slacks. Sporting simple dress shoes, Xander’s last notable feature was the thin black crown atop his head. As Ryouma nears his friend with a smirk, he mocks,”Hey teach, isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Well, I didn’t know _men_ had the option to wear a dress,” Xander remarks as he turns toward his old friend. His grin quickly grows into a cocky smile upon witnessing Ryouma’s predictable attire. The young man was in a traditional kimono draped in Hoshido’s colors: red and white, with white being the base color of the silk material. With a golden haramaki and geta clogs, Ryouma’s outfit was complete. Xander continues with his remark upon examining his friend’s outfit,”Looks like I was right without even looking. You need new formal wear.”

“Maybe _you_ need new wear,” Ryouma retorts as he steps closer to his ally, stopping just before the two are a few inches apart. As the Hoshidan prince extends his hand for a shake, he is quickly met with a comforting embrace instead.

As it was, Xander generally kept to formalities, especially in public, but things were different when it came to Ryouma. He had felt that way since they were children. Likewise, Ryouma met Xander with the same greeting, wrapping his arms around his smaller friend all the same. The Hoshidan prince had never minded contact, preferred it actually from those he considered close, but those from Nohr had a reputation of being much more distant.

As the two men separate, Xander waves to the princess of Camisia who had kept him company for some time before Ryouma’s arrival. With a gentle smile, Alissa waves back to her new found accountant before walking off to find someone else to speak with. Quickly turning his attention back to the Hoshidan prince, Xander makes an inquisitive response to their earlier buffoonery,”How have you been?”

Ryouma joyously respondes,”Pretty good! I’m preparing to leave for my final training session this spring. How about you, Marx?”

“Just fine, not much has changed,” Xander says, trying to sound as reassuring as he can be. While most would just take the comment as is, Ryouma knew his childhood friend far too well to let the comment slide. It was the undertone carried with his statement that alarmed Ryouma, and Marx knew by the determined look plastered across his friend’s face that he had spoken out of turn.

The Hoshidan royal did not speak; he simply grasped Xander’s pale hand while walking toward the far end of the ballroom. By now, both teens knew the layout of the establishment. As such, Xander follows close behind Ryouma as they venture to a small balcony that oversees Izuno’s Zen Garden. No one generally occupied the garden at night, especially not during the festival, making the balcony a key area for quiet conversations.

“Ryouma, this is highly unnecessary.”

“Sure.”

To this, Xander lets out a sigh as they pass through the double doors leading to the small balcony. Ryouma shuts both doors behind them before turning back to his friend. Without hesitation, the Hoshidan prince implores,”Let’s just talk, about anything. We don’t have to discuss something you’re not comfortable with, okay?”

With a nod, Xander takes a second to contemplate which bridge he would rather pass. If he tells Ryouma about what is currently going on in Nohr, Marx could potentially cause a ripple of catastrophes. While Xander knew the Hoshidan prince would never speak of their conversations to anyone else, he also knew Ryouma would in turn attempt to _fix_ the problem, possibly making it worse in the end. Though, Marx would be jeopardizing the trust they had built since youth if he decided to keep his life a secret from Ryouma. As Xander steps closer to the balcony’s sturdy brick railing, he compromises,”I’ll tell you everything, _if_ you promise not to speak or act on it.”

Ryouma replies immediately,”I promise.”

“On our friendship, Ryouma.”

“Damn, you’re serious about this...Fine, I promise _on our friendship_ ,” Ryouma rolls off his tongue. The words were hard to pass on as they carried such a heavy burden. Their bond was rather strong, for reasons neither planned to admit to the other.

Even hearing these words left dissatisfaction within the Nohrian crown prince, yet the barren promise was at least leverage to silence his friend’s ambition, whether it erupt now or sometime in the near future. With a shallow sigh, Xander places his hand in his pocket before beginning his tale,”My father is not the man he used to be. He’s taken to...a new religion of sorts, advised to by his advisor, Iago.”

“That spineless imp, what changes have overcome him?” Ryouma spat as he lowered his elbows against the railing. He knew the man all too well. It was always Iago who kept a close eye on them, when Ryouma would visit Nohr, waiting for someone to act out of turn or just enough so the story could be twisted to better suit his liking. It was what Iago _lived_ for.

Just how to describe his father’s new behavior was a struggle. There were aspects of it Marx did not want Ryouma to know of, like his excessive tendencies or over aggressive nature. Xander decides to keep things simplistic, figuring it would be easier to hide than explain. So, he strategically states,”Garon has just…changed. I don’t really know how to explain it all. Imagine if your father left for a voyage and returned as someone different.”

As Ryouma watches his friend speak, he catches sight of Marx’s deceit. This hidden truth was revealed along with the nervous twitch Xander had developed when they were younger. The first time Ryouma saw it was when they got in trouble for dirtying their dress clothes by stepping through mud puddles on a rainy day. When Garon scolded the children with a slight raise in his voice, Marx’s eyes shifted. The motion was always subtle, as the shift generally occurred between two objects mere inches apart just to deter focus on the angered soul, but it was plenty for Ryouma to catch up on immediately.

The question now was why his friend chose to act so sly to hide behind the truth of it all. Xander and himself had hidden plenty of things in their time together, from the white lies of childhood nonsense to more pressing conundrums, and the duo had adapted an uncanny ethic behind it. Even with these twisted morals, they had never hidden anything from each other.

Ryouma stays silent as he considers the logic behind Marx’s decision, and Marx chooses not to question his friend’s silence. Though as the void of absent conversation grows, Ryouma begins to scan his friend. Nothing seemed odd or unusual about Xander until the Hoshidan prince caught sight of a small purple spot hidden mostly beneath the Nohrian’s flared collar. Acting in haste, Ryouma brushes the collar aside to reveal a large bruise before Xander has the chance to step away from him. Ryouma’s eyes widen upon sight of the mark as he steps closer to Xander, demanding,“Is he beating you?”

“Ryouma, it’s not-“

Though through his friend’s plea, Ryouma refuses to listen as he turns to grasp the door’s handle. He barks,“I’ll kill him myself!”

“You promised me you would not act on this knowledge,” Xander retorts while grasping Ryouma’s arm firmly to halt his escape. The comment alone would have stopped Ryouma, but Marx had to make sure he would listen as he continued,”Please, Ryouma.”

“I agreed to such terms _before_ I found out he was hurting you. If we tell my father-“

“You will start a war! We are royals. We do not have such a luxury,” Xander argues. Unfortunately, he knew the conversation would end like this, but confronting either of their fathers would make the situation worse. Over these past few months, Xander had endured too much to let it all blow up, during a political gathering no less.

“A luxury? I won't let anyone I care about suffer through strife, regardless of who the abuser is,” Ryouma persists as he stares at Xander with cool, collected eyes. In truth, the Hoshidan prince would stand up for anyone in this situation, but the fact that it was _Marx_ left no room for forgiveness. At one time, Ryouma had looked up to Garon as he did his own father, even respected him, yet tides change with the rise and fall of the moon, as did alliances.

Regardless, Xander held Ryouma’s wrist tighter to deter his dear friend. This was a family matter he did not want the Hoshidan royals involved in; their relationship with that family was far too close to let frustrations tear them apart. In the same turn, Xander had no one else to turn to. He wanted to tell someone, let out a scream for help, yet doing so was never in his nature. Marx had been taught to never show weakness; he understood how easily a decision could turn a country against someone.

Personal stress had amounted to this, Xander’s current stature as he slowly lost his grip around Ryouma’s wrist. There was no right decision. Forcing Ryouma to remain silent would cause tension between them, yet squealing on his father would break their bond entirely. For the first time, Xander’s eyes profusely bled with uncontrollable droplets. He was utterly lost.

In all of their years together, not once had Ryouma seen Marx cry. Xander was the strongest of his siblings, both physically and mentally. As he was also the eldest son, the Hoshidan prince understood all too well the expectation carried with this role in their families. Regardless, Ryouma’s anger extinguished almost entirely as this new concern presented itself before him. The Hoshidan royal hurries to his companion’s side, locking him in a strong embrace as he reassures his friend,”It’s okay, Marx. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Feeling the warmth, Xander drops his head onto Ryouma’s broad shoulder. At this point, his sobbing is vocal and still not controlled. Marx’s arms had been trapped against his friend’s chest in the exchange, but he did not mind. This only made it easier to grip the edges of Ryouma’s v-necked kimono. Marx’s breathing quickly grows staggered as the sheds of tears overpowered his lungs.

Holding his friend tighter, Ryouma raised one of his hands to Xander’s shoulder length hair. Slowly caressing Marx’s blonde curvy locks, Ryouma continues to comfort him,”Breathe slower, deep breaths. Everything’s going to be okay.”

As Xander’s breathing shallows, so do the thoughts swirling his head. Marx’s mind begins to fill with his friend’s voice; the clam, low tone slowed any sense of uncertainty, and placed all conundrums to rest. This almost rendered Xander’s mind numb, as for the first time in months he felt connected to something other than his father. Marx felt the heat from being in Ryouma’s arms, the warm sensation that uplifted his thoughts. Xander wanted anything but for this moment to end, and Ryouma felt just the same.

Holding Xander like this, Ryouma felt so close to him yet just as far away as if he were residing at home. There was a hidden factor in their friendship, one both held close to heart though would never tell the other, or at least, that was how it had been up until this moment. If there was any _good_ time to express how Ryouma really felt, it was now; this was a prime opportunity he did not plan to waste.

Though in the same turn, Xander was distressed. As he exited their embrace, Marx took a deep breathe to himself while bringing his right hand to his temple. Marx would be lying to himself if he claimed he was not embarrassed with this sudden outburst. Regardless of who he faced, even the likes of Ryouma, to show so much weakness was laughable. While brushing a strand of hair out of his face, Marx assesses the situation,”I apologize for my behavior. I’ve just been...stressed as of late.”

There were countless responses Ryouma could say and plenty of things he _wanted_ to say. Though, he remained speechless. As he watches Marx’s movements, the blonde swiping hair behind his right ear and making a ridiculous excuse, Ryouma waits for the right moment. Not a second too soon, as to cut off his friend’s speech, but not a second later, to allow Marx to concoct some other formal diplomatic nonsense. Upon listening to the words pass Xander’s mouth, Ryouma closes the gap between them to place a firm kiss upon Xander’s lips.

When they met, Xander froze. Marx’s mind tells him to flee but his heart warrants a stay. This is what Xander has secretly wanted, but as royals, their choice in love was not their decision to make. Even more, they were both crown princes. Their love was forbidden, so why did this moment feel so right? As much as his thoughts told him to step away, Xander simply could not. As Marx shuts his eyelids, he kisses back.

That was the act Ryouma was waiting for, acceptance of this moment. Feeling the tight lock of their lips caused a small smile to fall on Ryouma’s face. Bringing his hand up to rest on Xander’s cheek, Ryouma lightly runs his thumb over the smooth patch of skin. The Hoshidan’s other hand fell to Xander’s waist to keep his friend close.

The kiss was sloppy, a quick reaction on both parts causing it so, yet their virgin lips helped little in this situation. As such, it was Marx who backed away first to take a breath of air. For the first time in months, his mind had nulled with an odd sensation of bliss and belonging. Xander could only focus on them, in this current moment. His eyes focus on Ryouma as he awaits an explanation.

Though such an explanation was hard to address with simplistic words. The thought of his sudden action drove Ryouma senseless as heat rushed to the young man’s cheeks. Of course, it was his turn to be supportive in Marx’s stead, so Ryouma puts on a bold smile as he states,”You’re never alone, Marx. _Never_ , okay?”

_That was corny_ is the first comment to run through Xander’s mind even though it placed a smile across his face. The Nohrian royal could not help a chuckle pass through his newly soiled lips as his cheeks too burned with the same passion. Marx replies with a steady release,”I know you will always be there for me. Thank you for bei-“

“Don’t give me any sappy crap,” Ryouma states with exuberance. The tone carried with a dead ring as it was an unnecessary take on his words, yet the Hoshidan prince spoke in haste to prevent his cheeks from flaring more.

To this, Xander halts his previous speech with a nod as he in turn requests,”Do you think we could speak somewhere more private for a time?”

“Sure,” Ryouma replies as he opens the door beside him. Leaving the door spaced plenty for Xander to fit, the Hoshidan royal waits for his friend to pass through. Xander steps past the doorway, immediately waltzing down the long corridor. Though as Ryouma follows close behind his ally, both realize their trek is rather short as they witness a maid exiting a nearby bedroom. Before the white haired female fully closes the door, she places a red ribbon around the handle. Per tradition, a red ribbon placed on a door handle symbolized the room was not meant for guests to occupy during social gatherings. It was common courtesy to follow such unwritten rules, yet this also happened to make a convenient escape for the night.

The ribbon was strategically tied around the handle and lock on the door, so any quick entry would alert those who passed by. Though through their childhood, both had some colored experience, and Marx had become fairly skilled with _breaking and entering_ without anyone realizing until the duo had long since left the perimeter. As Marx kneels beside the door, he carefully unties the ribbon, making sure to uncrease it without causing any extra folds. Next, he cracks the door open, placing the ribbon back to where it was hung, but this time, the fabric is tied in a different manner. Instead of looping the ribbon around the lock, Marx leaves it loosely dangle from the circular fixture surrounding the lock, so that once locked from the inside, the ribbon would drop to its original location.

“You’re so good at that, it scares me,” Ryouma jokes while keeping a lookout for people passing by. Thankfully, this corridor seemed to be rather silent tonight. Hearing a soft whooshing sound, the Hoshidan prince glances at his friend who simply huffs to acknowledge his friend’s comment while passing through the doorway. Ryouma follows with a smile upon his face, carefully locking the door behind him.

The Hoshidan royal travels to the far end of the room, sitting atop a wooden chair that occupied the corner of it. He sat backwards, leaning his arms folded against the top rung of the chair’s backing. Ryouma focuses his attention to Xander who chose to lie across the neatly done bed. As Ryouma continues to stare, he becomes captivated by the spectrum before him. Marx’s attire contrasted with the beige sheets draping the mattress he laid on. With Xander’s unmoving posture, the scene seemed much more like a painting than real life.

Though, Xander felt Ryouma’s stare all too quickly. He turns to witness Ryouma’s gawking chocolate eyes and immediately calls his friend out with a witty smile,”Stop staring at me like that.”

“Sorry! Your beauty is just so distracting,” Ryouma jests while throwing his hand aimlessly in the air. The comment put forth his desired outcome as Xander’s cheeks grew deep red, like the pedals of a newly bloomed rose. Ryouma watches Marx cover his cheeks beneath his right forearm as a hearty chuckle passes through the Hoshidan’s skin toned lips. There was relief for both men, knowing now that they shared the same desires toward each other, yet it would soon leave a level of duress in their souls. Though, this subconscious stress would have to wait for another day as laughter filtered out of the room from both men, soon dwindling like a slow burning fire.

As Xander turns his head toward Ryouma, both adolescents lock eye contact with each other. The Nohrian prince continues to gaze at his stunning lover with utter resolve. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to consider _his_ desires, not those of the various individuals in his life. With a careless smile, Marx says,”Ryouma, let’s go all the way tonight.”


End file.
